Gemotions

He stared at the faded paint on his shed, as though it held the key to his dilemma. Mr. Evans had a valid point, the elm was encroaching and had to go. The fact that the initial planting had been his idea made the request all the more difficult.

He felt his cheeks grow warm as Mr. Evans explained the root damage to his pool. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact. He hated the thought of admitting he was wrong.

His response, when he finally spoke, was a hasty agreement, punctuated by a hurried cough.